


set my midnight sorrow free

by pettigrace



Series: some joy at the start [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Chronicles of Cisco, Dreams and Nightmares, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, M/M, Science Boyfriends, Vibe Powers, tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 02:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pettigrace/pseuds/pettigrace
Summary: Cisco keeps working together with Hartley. It's intense.





	set my midnight sorrow free

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samclaug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samclaug/gifts).



> So, this is kinda set in the rest of the series "[some joy at the start](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1149065)" but can **easily be read as a standalone, too**! What you need ot know is that basically after some time travelling around, Hartley has come back to work at STAR Labs. And Cisco's not particularly happy with that. Also, there's references to the Chronicles of Cisco webshow.
> 
> The title is from Sam Smith's "Leave Your Lover".
> 
>  
> 
> **There's references to fire and the Orlando Nightclub Shooting, so please take care.**

Cisco knows that the middle of an alarm probably isn’t the time for a deep sigh accompanied by a roll of his eyes. He knows, okay? He knows he should concentrate on pulling up the info on the call, look if it’s something for Barry to deal with… but the way Hartley rushes - not runs, no that wouldn’t be sophisticated enough - into the room makes him already feel annoyed. Actually, he’d forgotten about the other being in the building as well.

“What is this?”, Hartley demands to know. He stops in the middle of the room, staring at the ceiling accusingly. There’s a short twitch of his hand, like it wants to go up to his head. The alarm might be too loud for Hartley, Cisco realizes at that.

He turns it off. “There’s a fire down in the south of the city.”

“Then why don’t they call the fire department?” Hartley’s voice is dry, sounding as if he really didn’t care as long as they leave him alone.

“Because,” Cisco starts and rolls over to the other computer, pulling up the incoming information, “it’s too big. I need to call Barry.”

Hartley huffs. “Didn’t know the Flash stole firemen’s jobs.”, he says, but he steps up to the desk anyway and sinks down on one of the chairs. He starts reading through the text as Cisco puts the phone to his ear.

“Don’t worry, Chip won’t suddenly be--” He’s interrupted by Barry’s pressed ‘ _Cisco, what’s up_?’ on the other line. In an instant, he puts him on speaker. Hartley would probably want to listen in and he knows as much as him right now anyway. “There’s a fire. Multiple, actually. So many points of ignition-- I don’t even know. Looks like arson.”

He can practically hear Barry’s frown. “Arson? But-- Heatwave’s gone--”

“Many people are capable of arson,” Hartley declares. Cisco wonders what he’s been up to before - he sounds way too annoyed to have been doing anything too boring. Then again, he might find taxes interesting, Cisco doesn’t know.

He tells Barry where to go and opens up one of the streams of live security cameras they have around town. The video makes him take in a sharp breath. “It’s spreading quickly, you better hurry up.”

It doesn’t take more than five seconds until Barry’s tracker appears on the screen. “Didn’t you say it’s nothing big? It’s _giant_. I gotta check for people.”

Cisco refrains from pointing out that he said no such thing but turns to Hartley, “Can you pull up info on what the building’s made of? Or what for?” There’s no way it should have gotten this big - the camera feed suddenly shows most of it being covered in flames rather than only a few points here and there - in such a short time.

He follows suit right away and Cisco can’t help but be impressed when he opens link after link within a few moments. Either Hartley’s really good at googling stuff or better at hacking than he could have imagined.

Cisco’s eyes have left the screen only shortly but when he looks back, Barry’s disappeared. “ _Jesus_ ,” he gasps, “You can’t go in there!”

“Already done, man. I think I’ll manage before the damage is too big.” Barry sounds serious and Cisco sighs in return. He knows that voice. It’s the ‘I don’t care what you’re saying, I made my incredibly dangerous decision’-voice. No point of arguing here.

“Fucking hell,” Hartley announces. “Is he seriously going full hero right now? That building’s gonna collapse any second now.” He scans through the text in front of him. “Central can’t just go with a timbered house, no, it uses it for storage of papers--”

“Building’s empty,” Barry breathes into his comms. He doesn’t say if he’s had to save anyone, he leaves it at that. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know,” Hartley makes, “ _Get rid of the fire_?”

Cisco ignores him. “Try to create a vacuum to scoop it up,” he suggests. “That always works.”

At least so far.

He and Hartley watch the camera feed, trying to figure out whether it works this time around as well. Barry rotates his arms, like he does so often to create air boosts or even small tornadoes, but the ones he sends at the fire don’t do anything. They only capture parts of the fire, never enough, and then they disappear.

“Try running around it,” Hartley decides, not looking away from the screen.

“ _No_ ,” Cisco cuts in. “That’d only create an eye. He might make things worse, enlarge the fire or something, he can’t--”

Barry sounds exasperated. “ _Guys_ , this doesn’t work. It’s already too big and it’s still spreading! I don’t think I can--”

  


-

 

Cisco jerks up at once, panting somewhat as his eyes try to become accustomed to the sudden change of scenery. It takes a moment until he’s able to even make out anything. His computer screen is turned on, blinding him with the full force of white light against the darkness of the room.

“You shouldn’t overwork yourself,” says a calm voice next to him. He needs a moment to place it, having never heard it in such a tone before, but even in his sleepy state he finds it burnt into the back of his brain soon enough. When he turns his head, he sees Hartley’s face illuminated by the light, eyes hidden behind the reflection of it that’s covering his glasses.

Only when he reaches for the light switch does he notice Hartley’s hand on his arm - it drops as soon as Cisco’s looked at it. There’s something in Hartley’s face, he sees now, but nothing he can decipher. He blinks a few times. “What time is it?”

“Eh… Quarter past three. Roughly.”, Hartley says. Then, he adds, “AM.”

“Really?” Cisco raises his brows. “What are you doing here?”

Hartley shrugs. It looks like a smooth motion, not as clumsily as his own or even Barry’s, but like Hartley knows every inch of his body perfectly. It’s annoying. “Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d check up on the city.”

Were he any more awake, Cisco could say something about how Barry has made it more than clear that Hartley’s got nothing to do with Flash business. He’s just here to help with patents and sells and all the things none of them have any idea about. _Hell_ , Hartley’s one of the people who should stay away from superheroing as far as possible - he’s made it clear himself by becoming a _villain_. What comes out of his mouth, though, is a yawn.

Hartley, douchebag that he is, doesn’t even hide his laughter at that. “So, what’s captivated you so much that you’re preferring _this_ to your bed?” He sits down on the desk, pointedly staring down at Cisco as he awaits an answer.

For a moment, Cisco’s overwhelmed with the memories-- _of a dream_ , as he realizes now. He’s dreamt of one of the attacks Central City faces on a daily basis, and the way Hartley’s helped with it. Barry’s not in danger but probably back at home and fast ( _heh_ ) asleep. That realization sends a wave of relief through his body.

He‘s still a little out of it, though, so he shoots a look at the screen before replying. Right now, there’s just a Wikipedia article opened, but the topic alone makes him remember. “I was-- uh, trying to figure this thing out--” Truth be told, he’s not sure if he even _wants_ to tell Hartley just what he’s been working on. It’s not that he considers his powers to be, like, a private and intimate thing but sharing the way _he_ doesn’t understand them yet with _Hartley Rathaway?_  All his warning signals kick in at that. “It doesn’t matter, really.”

Whatever the guy has been up to since he left Central City - it’s helped him somewhat with his social skills. Either that or he’s had them before and just chosen to ignore them the many times they’d been forced to work together. Now, he just lets Cisco’s answer slide. Instead of interrogating him he lets his eyes trace everything standing around in the room.

If Cisco’d thought it was already stressing that Hartley is _here_ in general, then this night is only making it worse. For starts, Hartley had woken him _up_ \- he can only hope he hasn’t been drooling. But then again, if he had, then he’d surely have already faced some teasing about that. He remembers the many arguments they’d had about how Cisco keeps his work space; the mess his lab had been has always been a thing that upset Hartley whenever he’s had to walk past it. And now? It looks worse than ever, if you ask Cisco. There’s still things lying around from when Barry was still in that _coma_ , not to mention the lot that was added ever since then. There’s halfway finished things, sketches and generally just garbage covering a lot of space.

To his surprise, Hartley doesn’t comment on any of that. Instead, he keeps looking at something and says, “You know, in the last three weeks I haven’t once set foot into your little designated lab, Cisco.”

Cisco frowns. “This… isn’t my lab. Well, not really. More like a dump, actually.” It isn’t a lie. Not really, anyways. It is where he dumps all his things, but the lab he stays throughout the day is actually Harry’s. Not that Hartley needs to know.

“Hm,” he makes in reply. Hartley gets up from the desk and walks over to the box with prototypes of the Wizard’s Wand (which Cisco has still here, yes. He’s not sentimental, they might be useful some day, thank you). “What’s all this?”, he asks and nudges it with his boot.

Cisco gets up instantly, pulling him away from there. “ _Sensible_ stuff,” he presses. Seriously, he’d thought Hartley was the careful one out of the two of them. “ _Dude_.”

“It looks like trash,” Hartley offers as an excuse. Then he realizes that, technically, it sounds like an insult, so he adds, “I-- uh, sorry, I didn’t mean-- just… it’s in a random box on the floor, so that’s misleading, I guess.”

Truth be told, Cisco’s not sure if it’s still the fatigue in his bones or whether that’s actually not worth fighting about. He supposes he _did_ put them in a random corner, after all. “Yeah, those were, like, halfway developed only. Either that or just… crappy.”

Hartley keeps looking down at them for a moment. Then his expression changes. “Hey, that’s-- that’s that thing with the Weather Wizard, right?”

“You know about that?”, Cisco raises his brows. Hartley must have still been out and about when they used it.

“Yeah,” Hartley huffs. “Kinda hard not to hear when Snart last got out of prison, especially when you’re still in his group chat.”

“Wait, you’re-- _what_?”

“So, these are-- what, prototypes?” Hartley continues, pointedly ignoring Cisco’s confusion. Which is _rude_ as hell. Shouldn’t the team know if all their villains are secretly talking and scheming with one another?

Before he can voice any of those thoughts, though, Hartley’s already pushed away his arm to reach out for one of the wands. “Hey! You can’t just-- _Hartley_!”

“Sorry,” Hartley says again, but instead of putting the device he’s picked up down again, he turns it in his hand. “This is just really fascinating. So, it took you--”, he counts quickly, “eight tries to get it right?”

Cisco scratches the back of his head. “Well, yeah. Not that easy to manipulate the weather. Besides, I worked off some vibes that barely focused on that.”

“Huh,” Hartley makes. “That’s really… impressive.”

That’s about the opposite of what Cisco would have expected to come out of his mouth. He’d thought Hartley would make a jab at him for not figuring out things perfectly before starting to build something. Or, like, for the fact he doesn’t get things immediately right. Now, though, he really does look incredibly intent on taking a closer look at them. “You know, there’s one in there that can _only_ produce snow.”

“Really? God, that’d be amazing for cosplays.”, Hartley grins, still staring at the wand. Maybe he hasn’t even realized what he just said.

It certainly takes Cisco a moment to answer. “Right! You’re secretly a nerd, forgot about that. Anyway, you wanna see some more? I could show you around.”

That does gain Hartley’s attention. And actually? He looks like a child on Christmas morning. Wide smile in place, eyes big in anticipation and a quick nod as soon as he looks up.

That looks like something he could deal with.

“Well, all this is basically just… things that need updates. Or revamps. Or are downright garbage,” Cisco admits. “These wands have malfunctions or are completely useless. And _no_ , you can’t fix them. Even the people from Earth Two gave up.”

Hartley smirks. “You do realize that only makes me even more eager to try it, right?”

Cisco sighs. “Of course.” If there’s one thing he knows for sure about Hartley, it’s his constant need to prove himself as the most clever. Truth be told, a minor part of him may be curious to see how far he gets. Earth Two is way more advanced than theirs and even Harry and Jesse combined hadn’t been anywhere close to fixing this mess.

He takes the wand out of Hartley’s hands and places it back in the box. Even if neither of them is stranger to working through the night, there’s no need to put that onto him now. Besides, he’s promised Hartley a tour.

“There’s actually functioning stuff here, too, you know?”, he offers. Without thinking, he grabs Hartley’s arm. The other doesn’t looking put off by that, so Cisco just pulls him along. “Like, _so_ many power-dampening handcuffs.”

“I know those. Barry used them on me. Granted, without great effect but…”, Hartley recalls. “Though, are those dampening _every_ power at once? I didn’t wonder about this before. That’s impressive, Cisquito.”

Beside himself, Cisco can feel heat rush into his cheeks. It doesn’t happen every day that Hartley compliments someone, let alone _him_ , on their intellect, so that reaction makes sense. It doesn’t help that Hartley’s wearing an earnest smile, like he actually means it. Like, for once in his life, he won’t deliver a punchline. Or a literal punch.

“They’re infused with anti-matter, which cancels out the dark matter in a meta’s system,” Cisco shrugs. “Pretty easy when you think about it.”

Hartley draws his eyebrows together. “Is every meta affected by it the same way? You’d think their DNA would look different depending on their powers, wouldn’t it?”

Cisco shakes his head softly. “It’s the same amount of dark matter, but yes, it does have different effects on the cell structure. Obviously. Cue Barry’s accelerated healing and stuff.”

“Makes sense.”, Hartley nods. He looks around once more and breaks into another grin then. “You know I could sue you for using my suit design, right?”

Now, Cisco is aware that it was his prototype. Of course he does, especially when Caitlin had first gone on and on about how nice it is of him to create something for the firefighters of Central City. Never mind the fact that he’d just planned on getting back on his ex’s good side. Still, that doesn’t mean he needs to admit it to him - neither the fact that he remembers the story behind it nor that he did know it was Hartley’s. “Wait, that was yours?”

Apparently he’s not as much of an actor as he thought. Hartley sends him a glare for a split second before breaking into a snort. “You’re _welcome_ ,” he chuckles.

Cisco ducks his head a little. “Only the fabric!”, he points out.

Hartley looks way too amused as he finally steps up to the mannequins wearing the first few designs of the Flash suit. He traces the arm of one of them with his hand and declares, “Nice handiwork on weaving the tech into it.”

“Does sleep-deprivation turn you… into a _nice_ person?”, Cisco blinks. The words have just so tumble out of his mouth; he can’t help it, he’s too surprised. Did anyone even make sure this really is the Hartley from this earth? Maybe he’s from one where all the bad guys have become nice because there’s no way he’d just go around and compliment people’s work. That’s not what Hartley Rathaway does. Come to think, why did they never think of creating a test to see whether they’re looking at doppelgängers or not? Now that would be helpful for once.

Hartley chuckles lightly. “Maybe,” he tilts his head. “So, why won’t you let me brainstorm about the problem that’s kept you here?”

Cisco grimaces - not because it’s Hartley offering his help (and just how weird is that?) but because he doesn’t like the reminder of how long he’d been trying to figure it out. “I don’t think that’s-- wait.” _Of course_. That’s _it_. Hartley is the _key_. “Sounds are _vibrations_.”

While he rushes back to his desk right away, Hartley is frozen for a moment and stares after him. “I-- yes. That’s, like, elementary school level knowledge.”

“I _know_. I guess it was so easy I didn’t even consider--”, Cisco answers, scribbling notes down on a piece of paper. “Look, I was trying to figure out how to focus my powers better, you know, like when I shoot these blasts--”

“Wait, you shoot them out of your hands, don’t you?”, Hartley says, stepping up to him. “So, basically you could use--”

“Gauntlets. Like yours.”, Cisco finishes. “Of course, they wouldn’t have to produce anything themselves, just bundle it, but that’s something you developed, too, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”, Hartley nods. “I don’t have them with me, but generally I don’t think you could just test them out right away-- even if sounds are vibrations, your powers give them a whole different effect. I’d rather not have them ripped apart.”

“You-- Are you implying that you’re willing to help me?”

Hartley scoffs, though not viciously. It’s like he’s still amused. “Good guy now, remember? Besides, if it fits so well, why wouldn’t I?”

“That’s--” Cisco’s speechless for a moment. He’d have expected him to outright deny it, to keep his designs for himself and even _forbid_ him to try create anything similar. Or maybe he’d have let Cisco try to recreate them on his own just so he can laugh at his fails. And now he stands here and acts like it’s only logical that he shares his notes with him. “I-- thanks.”

He turns to face Hartley properly and realizes only now how he’s hunched over his shoulder to take a look at the paper, making them incredibly close. Hartley’s looking at him, too, and for a moment Cisco can’t look away. Hartley looks older than he used to, just as he does probably, with the years written into his features. His face is slimmer than it used to be and Cisco is pretty sure there’s a new mole around his mouth.

Finally, Hartley stands up straighter again and shrugs. “No problem. I’ll bring them around tomorrow.”

Cisco nods, not wanting to repeat himself. Instead he writes ‘PIPER GLOVES’ on his notepad, out of principle. He ignores Hartley’s chuckle at that and pushes back on his chair. “So, back to the tour?”, he prompts.

Hartley pulls his lips into a thin line for a second, like he actually thinks about it. Then he nods, “Sure.”

So, Cisco gets up again and continues showing him around. There’s still the dummy Cisco had built to help Barry train for fighting against Girder, a whole pile of non-edible protein bars (which don’t rot so it’s not unhygienic, shut up Hartley), some of the cardboard cut-outs they used when Linda impersonated Dr Light… Cisco laughs when Hartley discovers the shields he got for the CCPD so that they won’t be harmed by either Cold or Heatwave - he pulls that vacuum cleaner he scared them with out of the closet, telling Hartley the story. The laughter that erupts in the other’s chest tells him that while Snart may have a supervillain group chat, he does not share his own embarrassing stories in it.

It only takes a while until Cisco gives him free reign of where to go. Hartley looks captivated by pretty much everything, asking honest and curious questions rather than offensive ones, and Cisco could be talking about everything for hours. It’s better to let _him_ decide what he wants to know more about.

So Cisco keeps standing next to the whiteboard with his arms crossed and watches Hartley as he crosses the room in wide strides. He lifts a few things here and there to get a better look, but only after sending back a look that asks for permission.

“What’s in the cupboards?”, he wants to know when he’s looked at pretty much everything once.

With a smile, Cisco nods towards it. “Knock yourself out.”

Hartley doesn’t need to be told twice. He opens the doors carefully, like he expects something to drop out of it - which, okay, given the mess that the rest of the room is, is understable. After scanning through it once, he pouts a little. “I get that you’re not the tidiest, Cisquito, but _what is this_? You can’t put an open cup of-- orange soda? Next to chemicals. _Open_ chemicals at that.”

“Wha-- Oh, that.”, Cisco answers while stepping up to him. Now, he won’t tell Hartley the whole crazy story of how he’s come up with that because _seriously_. Even he doesn’t know if that stuff with Peek-A-Boo was real or not, so he sure won’t make Hartley think he’s _craz_. “Yeah, no, that actually belongs together! I was trying to get this bulletproof liquid to lace the Flash suit with, right? Turns out orange soda is a _great_ catalyst for that.”

Hartley raises an eyebrow at him. “You… created a bulletproof liquid. That can coat literally everything.”

“Well, not _everything_. I still have to run lots of tests and whatnot,” Cisco admits. “It works on cotton and the suit. Jeans, too. But I have no idea if it, like, works for metals, too, and stuff so that’s--”

“It works on the most basic fabrics?”

“Yeah,” Cisco nods. “Though I have yet to come up with a method to make it really work _together_ . If I mix the soda into Element 47, then it’s screwed up. But if I first use Element 47 and coat _that_ with soda, then…”

“Holy _crap_ ,” Hartley breathes, staring back at the tubes on the shelf. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s speaking, Cisco would have thought he’s frozen. “This is _genius_. We need to figure this out right away, I can’t believe you have this resting here and then you focus on bullshit--” He reaches out for the tubes finally, but before he gets them Cisco stops him. Something’s off, he can tell by the way Hartley is so excited all of sudden. He’s _rambling_ , for fuck’s sake.

“Woah, calm down, dude. It’s not that urgent - Barry’s suit’s fine and even if it does wear off, he’s fast enough to catch the bullets, so--”

“This is _bigger_ than Barry, Cisco! _Hell_ , it’s bigger than Central and all its metas,” Hartley presses. He kind of looks like a kid about to open this huge package form Toys’R’Us and at the same time there’s more in his eyes than just that excitement. He looks… almost begging as he still stares at the test tubes. “This is-- _God_ , this is fucking _awesome_! Just imagine what the world would be with that--”

“Hang on, _the world_? Man, what are you going on about?” Now Cisco pulls him away from the cupboard, grabbing both his arms and holding him in place. He doesn’t miss the confusion and slight anger written into Hartley’s eyes.

“Come on, you can’t possibly be thinking of keeping this under the wraps!”, Hartley shoots right away. “ _Cisco_ , this is revolutionary! It’s exactly what STAR Labs should be doing - help actual _people_ , not superhero wannabes and waste all their time on that. Think about it! If everyone could drench their clothes in that liquid, mass shootings are a horror story of the past!” There’s something in his voice during the last sentence, like it’s close to breaking.

Cisco looks up at him and searches, tries to find something in Hartley’s eyes other than the excitement. And now he can place it: desperation. Pain. He doesn’t trust himself to speak up, so it’s merely a whisper, “What happened?”

Hartley doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes move around as if he’s trying to find the words written into the air. Cisco waits for him, but he doesn’t let go. “I-- You remember that shooting at that nightclub in Orlando?”

“Pulse?”

“Yeah,” Hartley nods. His eyes are wide and focused on Cisco now, so intensely that _he_ has to force himself not to look away. “I--I had a boyfriend.”

“You--” Cisco can only hope that it’s his current life that makes him assume the worst right away. There’s plenty of reasons why Hartley used past tense while talking, he’s sure.

“He was one of the victims,” Hartley says quietly. He doesn’t cry but his expression alone… Cisco fears he might have run out of tears. “And I’m just thinking-- with something like this being right _here_ \-- if he, or all of them, had had a method of making sure they can’t be harmed…”

“I-- I’m so sorry.”, Cisco answers, his voice hollow. He means it, he does, but he can’t possibly imagine what Hartley must have gone through. Had he been at the club as well?

“I didn’t come here because of any of you,” Hartley continues. “Or Central in general, I couldn’t give less of a shit about this town. But I know the opportunities that STAR Labs has, that it can actually help people and make sure something like that-- It doesn’t have to happen again, none of the things. And here you are, _keeping quiet about it_!” There’s less venom in his voice than Cisco had expected, but he flinches anyway. A kind of anger is seeping into Hartley’s words, one that hits right in his heart. Still, when he tries to shake Cisco’s hands off, he’s only holding him firmer, pulling closer.

“ _Hartley_ , that is-- I had no idea. But… just because that liquid exists, doesn’t mean all the problems are suddenly gone. There’s more dangerous things out there now and even if we made it available to everyone-- it doesn’t mean everyone will _use_ it.”

Hartley scoffs. “The people who have to fear something will! Not everyone has been blessed with some nice powers, like shooting energy or freaking _teleportation_ , you know? Look at me, what did the explosion give me? _Hyperacusis_! And then there’s all the people who haven’t been hit by the accelerator anyways--”

“I… You’re right. _Of course_ you’re right--” And he _is_ . The whole superhero business, it’s supposed to help _everyone_. Cisco supposes they got sidetracked with all the metas running around, losing focus, but ultimately STAR Labs is, like Hartley’s said, supposed to invent things to help all the people. Even if EoWells has run it, it was the original Wells’ intent to do so. As it should be.

Hartley’s still panting and his mouth moves like he’s still talking but if he does, then it’s so quiet that Cisco can’t hear. He watches the way he can’t decide whether to draw his eyes shut or look around again, and feels the way he struggles to get his arms out of Cisco’s grip-- and how he won’t _listen_.

Cisco can only come up with so many ways to get him out of this panic attack - because that’s _what this is_. He could try to punch him, but then he wouldn’t just harm him but also have to let go of one arm at least. He doubts he’s strong enough to keep him in place then. He can’t move away to grab anything either, so there’s only one thing his mind supplies.

He leans onto his tiptoes and presses his lips against Hartley’s.

It’s weird because Hartley’s mouth is still moving but after a few seconds that ceases. Suddenly Hartley’s a wall, hard and firm against Cisco’s mouth, and he fears he might have pushed him into the next stage of a mental breakdown.

He pulls away to get  a look at him. Hartley’s not completely frozen, as it turns out. He’s… speechless. Mouth slightly open in surprise and his eyes are still wide as he stares down at Cisco, but he doesn’t look as gone any more.

“Did you--,” Hartley starts but he cuts himself off. Cisco’s never paid close attention to Hartley’s lips, of course not, but as they move now, he wonders how they’d feel like if it was a real kiss they shared, if he kissed back and--

Not a route he should go down, actually.

Except now Hartley’s licking his lips quickly and he can’t tell whether it’s because of _him_ or if they really feel so dry that he feels the need to do that right now. It drives him crazy, just like the way Hartley blinks at him and the way his cheeks get faintly pink and-- _oh_.

Cisco’s brain hasn’t even fully pieced together everything yet when he’s already leaning up again. This time Hartley moves as well, moving towards him and finally closing his hands around Cisco’s arms, just like he’s done. Hartley’s lips _are_ softer than just now and it shouldn’t surprise Cisco, he knows. Still, he didn’t expect the lower one to fit so perfectly between his own--

 

-

 

With a jolt, Cisco sits up. His blanket slips in the movement, falling down from the bed, but he doesn’t care about that right now. So that was a dream. He supposes he should be used to that by now. His mind has always supplied the weirdest topics and ever since the accelerator explosion, it’s become more freaky. More layered and twisted, like the way he apparently just had a dream within a dream - what kind of Inception is that? Seriously, his subconscious has all kinds of fucked up shit to deal with. Just let him add not only getting along with Hartley Rathaway but _kissing him_ and _liking_ it onto that list of absurdities, too.

Though this one might be something he won’t share with anyone ever.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Please leave a comment!**  
>  If you liked this, come check out my [tumblr](http://joanthangroff.tumblr.com) or talk to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/Ll4MDUNBAR).


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